


Meeting scheduled with a stranger

by Lenami



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Angst and Humor, Both of them are manipulative in a way, Friendship, Gen, Grindelwald looks like he did in the books, He isn't "good" but he isn't evil either, Humor, Memories, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Morally Ambiguous Character, Orphanage, Teen Tom Riddle, Tom's shitty childhood, kind of, parental figures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenami/pseuds/Lenami
Summary: The park was almost empty, dark clouds hanging from the sky, threatening with the storm, and there was no one in his line of sight, so Tom simply went ahead and tugged on the stranger’s sleeve.“You are a wizard. I saw it.”The man leaned down, his handsome face framed by golden curls suddenly so close to Tom’s. He was smiling now and there was something wolfish in it, dangerous.“You are one too, aren’t you?”...Tom meets a dangerous stranger simply by chance.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Gellert Grindelwald & Tom Riddle, Gellert Grindelwald & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, mentioned
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Meeting scheduled with a stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I wondered if it was possible they would ever meet before Tom became Voldemort. The wiki says Gellert is likely from Hungary but his last name is more German, so I made him German here, because... well, I don't even know. I just did.  
> Honestly, it is a kind of weird concept, but I hope someone can enjoy it too.

The park was almost empty, dark clouds hanging from the sky, threatening with the storm, and there was no one in his line of sight, so Tom simply went ahead and tugged on the stranger’s sleeve.

“You are a wizard. I saw it.” He squinted at the man.

Stranger turned to look at him, surprised look on his sharp face. Tom stared at him shamelessly; he was one of those beautiful, sparkling people children like Tom never actually got to see up close, so he used his chance to do so now. He fought the urge to touch the man’s expensive suit.

The man leaned down, his handsome face framed by golden curls suddenly so close to Tom’s. He was smiling now, and there was something wolfish in it, dangerous.

“You are one too, aren’t you?” There was just a hint of foreign accent in his voice. “What did you see?”

“One of your friends disappeared, just like that. Your face- it changed. And I saw your book floating.”

The man crouched before him, so they were on eye level and Tom felt funny- he was already six and no one really crouched down to talk to him anymore.

“So you saw what I can do.” He tilted his head. “Can you show me what can _you_ do?”

“Alright, but you can’t tell anyone.” Tom reached into his pocket and gently pulled out his new pet, picked up on his way from park: a small grass snake.

“I can talk to him.” Snake affectionately wrapped around his fingers. “I can make him float, too. If I don’t like him someone I can make them hurt.”

He waved his fingers and the snake lifted few centimetres into the air.

“That’s impressive.” Stranger grinned, resting his elbow on his knee. “Since I was a child, I wished I could talk to snakes, just like some of the most powerful wizards. But I never knew how to do it.”

Tom smiled proudly, petting snake’s head.

“My name is Gellert.” He extended his hand and Tom shook it, his tiny fingers cold against man’s broad palm.

“I am Tom Riddle.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tom.” Gellert suddenly seemed lost in thought. “I know you probably would like to not talk about it, as you came here alone, but where are your parents, Tom?”

“I don’t have parents.” He said reluctantly. “I live in an orphanage.”

“Oh, I see. So, how come you are here alone?”

“Mrs. Cole took us to the park.” He shrugged. “I saw a real viper, so I went to talk to her and when I was back, they were gone. I guess they probably just went back.”

“I think they might be looking for you, Tom.” Gellert sighed. “I can walk you back to orphanage, if you show me the way. You wouldn’t want to meet any dangerous strangers, wouldn’t you?”

 _Aren’t you a stranger?_ Tom thought, but he didn’t say anything, just shrugged nonchalantly.

“Let’s go, then.”

Tom nodded and suddenly, he felt himself being lifted into the air; the man picked him up. It was unfamiliar feeling and he gripped man’s coat tightly, trying to steady himself.

“Sorry about this, Tom, but it will be quicker that way.” He smiled again. “So, show me the way.”

“It’s alright. I quite like it.” Tom wiggled his legs; being this high was pleasant. “Just this lane and to the left next.”

Gellert walked in silence for a moment, carrying Tom with ease and then spoke up again:

“Tom, how would you like it if I came for you later to take you to travel with me? You would talk to snakes for me, wouldn’t you?” He winked at Tom. “What do you think, Tom?”

“Yes! Oh, yes! I can talk to any snake, I once even talked to python at the zoo.” Tom exclaimed breathlessly, clinging to the man desperately. “Where would we go?”

“We have a deal then.” Gellert grinned once more. “I would take you back with me to my home in Germany, you see. Do you know how to say ‘yes’ in German?”

Tom shook his head.

“It’s ‘ _ja’._ Can you say it?”

“ _Ja_.” Tom smiled.

They turned left and from there Tom could see a figure in distance; of course, it was Mrs. Cole. Her voice echoed through the empty park:

“Riddle! Riddle! Tom! Where the hell that child could go?”

“You see? I said they will come looking for you.” Gellert stopped walking, eyeing the woman before them. It seemed like she also noticed them and stated to walk in their directions. “Let her come to us.”

Tom toyed with button of Gellert’s coat. It was dark and heavy, expensive looking. He traced the enigmatic triangle symbol on it with his finger.

“Do you like it?” The man smiled at him once more.

Tom nodded.

“You can have it.” The strands keeping the button in place suddenly disappeared and it fell free onto Tom’s hand. He quickly closed his fist around, afraid that someone might take it away.

“Tom, Tom!” It was Mrs. Cole approaching; she saw them clearly now and for a second she froze when she realized the boy wasn’t alone. “Tom, thank God!”

“Go to her, Tom” He whispered to his ear, still smiling. His breath tickled Tom. “I will come for you soon but I have to go for a meeting with my friend, Albus.”

He put Tom on a ground and ruffled his hair.

"Off you go."

“Riddle, Christ, what did I tell you about wandering off? You will go to bed without supper today!” She looked him up and down, and the turned back to Gellert. “Excuse me, sir, what did you-”

He was already gone, swallowed by the mist.

Tom, who saw him disappear, squeezed the button in his hand stronger.

That evening, when other children went down to eat, shouting and laughing, he waited, toying with the button, hungry, but excited.

And he waited the next day. And he waited the next week. He also waited next month and next year.

The man never came.

Curled in his bed at sleepless nights, on the loneliest hour, Tom imagined the man to be his father, even though they looked nothing alike. He recalled bright smile on Gellert’s face and his words, most importantly his words: _You are one too, aren’t you?_

He would make the button float just an inch from his hand and look at it until he drifted away to sleep.

And he still was waiting when Albus Dumbledore came for him.

“I know I am a wizard.” He said to him, chin raised proudly. “And you are one too, I know you are.”

There was enigmatic look on professor’s face and Tom couldn’t read it.

“And how do you know this, Tom?” His voice was calm and gentle.

“A friend told me.” He crossed arms on his chest.

“One of the snakes?” Dumbledore seemed genuinely curious; he smiled faintly at Tom like he tried to encourage him to speak.

“No, his name was Gellert. I met him in the park.” Tom gave his best to tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, like he didn’t spend hours at that park, hoping for the man to show up. “He is from Germany and- he said he knew you. Or someone with the same name as you, but I don’t think there is a lot people whose name is Albus, doesn’t it?”

Dumbledore’s expression changed abruptly: he seemed shocked. Grip of his long fingers on the wand tightened. Silence fell over them but there was tension in the room.

“Can you tell me more about him? For example, how did he look? Were his hair golden? ”

“One of his eyes was blue and the other one was black.” Tom nodded.

Dumbledore’s lips pressed into thin line and he came closer, crouching down before Tom, who sat on his bed. His clear blue eyes stared into Tom’s black ones.

“Did he say anything to you? Did he give you something? Could you tell me how did you two met at all?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Tom titled his head, a little bit unsure whether he did something wrong. He squeezed the button in his hand stronger. “He said he wished he could talk to snakes, just like me.”

He wasn’t afraid of the man before him, but he said it with a bit of defensive note, as if there was something threatening him. 

“You see, Tom-” Dumbledore paused, thinking. “Gellert is a very dangerous man. A dark wizard. But before that- we used to be friends, very good friends. And the last time I saw him- it was quite a long time ago. So, I need you to answer my questions, please. When was it when you met?”

Tom crossed arms on his chest, eyeing him with suspicion, but he answered as he was asked:

“I was six, then. So, it would be five years from now. I saw him do magic in the park, and then I asked him about this because I thought he might talk to snakes like me-”

“Thank you, my boy.” Dumbledore visibly relaxed. “So he didn’t come here?”

Tom shook his head.

“Is that all?”

“He said- he said-” Tom bit his lip. “That he would come to get me so I could talk to snakes for him.”

He lowered his gaze, suddenly embarrassed, afraid of sounding childish.

“Are you absolutely positive he said that?” Dumbledore seemed alarmed again; he lost some of his composure and started pacing, his steps too big for the tiny room. Tom moved away from him, drawing his knees up to his chest. The professor looked at him in a weird way and Tom realized in that moment that the man doesn’t like him, nor trust him. He simply nodded, not wanting to carry on with the conversation.

“I see. One last question, Tom. You said he knew me. What did he say about me?”

“I said he knew someone whose name is Albus. I don’t know if it was you who he meant.” Tom said with irritation in his voice. “He said that he was ‘going to meet his friend Albus’. If you met him that day, it was you, professor.”

He put his arms around his knees, folding into a little ball. In one of his hands he still hid the button.

Dumbledore didn’t answer, skipping this part of conversation to give him instructions about school. After that, he simply vanished- the same way as Gellert did.

Tom went to Hogwarts with the button in his pocket. In the second year, he put in on a string and wore on his neck under his robes.

Nobody mentioned Gellert again and Tom tried to bury the memory of him, but it never faded- on the contrary, it seemed to become more and more vivid with time.

Of course, after three next years, Tom realised _who_ he actually met that day. He tore a photo of Grindenwald from an old “wanted” poster in library; Gellert couldn’t be more than twenty on the photo but Tom recognized him immediately- the wolfish smile and mismatched eyes were unmistakable. Wizard was laughing on the picture, his curls bouncing around the face. Tom took the photo with him and used it as a bookmark; he gave up on trying to forget him, as Grindenwald’s name appeared in the papers more and more as the time passed. Despite that, Dumbledore never spoke of him. Tom was surprised, shocked even, when one day, he called him to his office to ask for the memory of the encounter.

And Tom felt furious, outraged. He tried to put on a polite expression but only thing that came out was an unpleasant smile. He imagined refusing Albus Dumbledore, the only professor in Hogwarts who disliked him and he desperately wanted to do so, but he couldn't afford it.

“I am sorry, Tom. I know this must be uncomfortable for you. I am doing it for Hogwarts; Grindenwald is becoming more and more of a threat to us.” Dumbledore said. “I hope you can sacrifice this for our school. For greater good.”  
His blue eyes pierced Tom and he suddenly felt like a child again, curling into himself and squeezing his wand tightly.

 _What is there to say? What is there to do?_ He thought, dropping his gaze on the floor.

“Alright, then.” He said in a sharp tone, eyes still on the floor, talking to his feet.

Tom stayed in the office, eyes trailing after Dumbledore who extracted the memory and watched it in Pensive. He felt utterly helpless and humiliated, rage boiled inside of him at the thought of Albus Dumbledore, of all of people, seeing it. His eyes stung but he blinked it away angrily and rested elbows on his knees, hiding face in his hands.

He didn’t know how much time passed when he heard his voice once again:

“You still there, Tom?”

“ _Obviously_ ” He muttered through clenched teeth.

Dumbledore didn’t comment on his tone, but there was tension in the air and Tom could tell that he wanted Tom out. Out of pure spite, he still sat where he was, face in his hands. Even though his back was turned to Dumbledore, he could feel his eyes on himself.

After a moment of silence, Dumbledore spoke up:

“Why didn’t you tell me about the button?”

Tom answered with voice so bitter it shocked even him:

“I was afraid you would take it from me.”

Both of them stayed silent when he left the office.

Neither of them spoke a word about it again and Tom felt emptiness inside of his chest when he thought about it.

He never thought he would see Grindenwald ever again.

It was the hottest day of summer before his sixth year when they met once more. He found Grindelwald sitting on his bed in the orphanage, bored and waiting, like it was a scheduled meeting.

“Hello, Tom.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tom shut his door behind himself, eying the man before him half with astonishment, half with annoyance. “You know you should knock before coming in, don’t you?”

“You’ve grown.” Gellert ignored his rude remark.

“I did. You just got old.” Tom said in voice as blank as possible and leaned against the door.

Grindenwald laughed unpleasantly.

“Aren’t you happy I finally came for you?”

“As if Jesus came down from the sky himself.” His voice dripped with irony. He answered before he could stop himself and only after looking at the wizard’s face he understood what he said wrong.

 _Why this fucking muggle ideology keeps sticking in my head?_ He thought, feeling the urge to slap himself.

Grindelwald tilted his head in a gesture of mocking thoughtfulness.

“You know Tom, I find the muggle religion to be an extremely dangerous ideology. Look at you, with all your contempt for muggles, and it’s still there.” He smiled, mismatched eyes sparkling. “Curious.”

“It’s just an expression” Tom rolled his eyes. “I could never understand it. They used to call me a devil child.”

“Oh, you know how it is.” Grindelwald’s voice was cheerful. “I would love to have a chat about it sometime but I’ve come here to talk about something else.”

“Go on then.” Tom gestured vaguely at him.

“I would prefer to do it… in a more suited place for this. It’s dreadful in here.”

 _Can’t deny that._ Tom couldn’t stop the sigh from escaping his lips.

“Come here.” The man waved at him and he reluctantly closed the distance between them. Gellert unexpectedly grabbed him by the arm and before Tom had a chance to understand what just happened, they were already somewhere else.

They apparated.

Tom angrily yanked his arm from the man’s hold, feeling nauseous.

“Maybe warn me next time, you absolute fucking bastard?!” He exclaimed, all of his usual composure gone.

He took a look at his surroundings. They stood in on a crowded street in front of ice-cream parlour. It was a fancy place, full of well-dressed people. Tom was suddenly reminded of his father and he squeezed the ring on his finger compulsively. Other people passed them on the street but no one seemed to notice their sudden appearance there

 _I don’t think it’s Britain._ He thought as he overheard stranger’s conversation; it sounded French. 

“I didn’t think you would actually let a dangerous stranger take you away somewhere, right?” Grindelwald mocked, tearing him from his thoughts.

Tom raised his eyebrows at him ironically.

“Just tell me where we are.”

“Oh, it’s just a pleasant place to talk. Come on.” They came inside; it was truly a beautiful place- old fashioned, bright and elegant. Tom felt out of place here but he didn’t let it show. As they sat, Grindenwald ordered something, speaking French seemingly even better than he spoke English- there was no sign of foreign accent in his voice.

“So tell me why exactly, why have you came to talk to me?” Tom leaned back in his chair. “Don’t you have any more urgent business now?”

“I do, Tom, I do.” Grindelwald suddenly became serious. “But that is exactly why I am here. Things are getting out of hand. I know that I will have to face Albus soon. He will come for me.”

Waiter came back; he put cup of coffee in front of Grindenwald and, to Tom’s surprise, a parfait before him. He didn’t expect him to order something for him and he stared at the man before him. Grindelwald smiled but it wasn’t the same mocking grin, rather faint twitch of the lips.

 _I feel like a child._ He realised, staring at the dessert before him. He picked up the spoon reluctantly and tried it; it was almost too good.

Grindelwald continued talking, watching Tom with something akin to amusement:

“You might be surprised, Tom but I actually came here to apologize.” He sighed, looking around the room. “I promised I would take you from that disgusting place but just the same day I was forced to retreat from England for few good years by the circumstances beyond my reach.”

“By circumstances you mean Albus Dumbledore?”

“You can say so.” Grindelwald laughed again.

“You see, I think that you have given quite a headache to Dumbledore recently.” Tom felt satisfaction at the look of sudden interest on Grindenwald’s face at those words. “He can’t figure out what would you gain from taking in little, poor Tom Riddle. And being frank, I can’t understand it either.”

“So you could talk to snakes for me, of course.” It was the same cheerful tone like earlier. “Have you talked to the python at the zoo recently, Tom?”

Tom went red in the face and opened his mouth to answer but Grindelwald didn’t let him.

“It happened by chance. I’ve been interested in parseltongue since I was very young and I looked for someone who could speak it for a while. The younger, the better. I wanted to study it, to see how it develops. To see if it could be _taught_. You came this close to being my teacher.”

 _It’s actually probable._ Tom ate his ice cream in silence, thinking of an appropriate answer.

“I had the ulterior motive of course but it was a whim, honestly. I quite like you, Tom. I would have spoiled you rotten if I got a chance to take you with me.”

Tom felt a weird pang in his heart at those words and he looked down at the ring on his finger once again.

“You got rid of the muggle, huh?”

Tom tried to think of something clever for an answer but he couldn’t, so he simply said:

“I did.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grindenwald leaned across the table. “You are not like him at all. You won’t ever be.”

Weird weight lifted off his heart at those words but he didn’t say anything.

“But Tom- how come you told Albus about meeting me? I can’t imagine you trusting him, nor him trusting you.”

Tom scowled.

“The name. I didn’t know who you were at eleven and I mentioned your name when we met first.” He pressed his lips into tight line. “Three years later, he stole my memory of it.”

Grindelwald paled, his face becoming angry mask.

“Albus. Always cruel without knowing about this.” His voice was bitter. “It’s cruel even for him.”

 _Even for him. Even._ Tom repeated that word in his head. It was soothing.

They fell silent for a moment until Grindelwald spoke up again in a much lighter tone:

“Eat your dessert, Tom. I paid for it.”

Tom tried not to smile with all of his strength but he failed.

“I didn’t ask for it.” He said, shrugging.

“I always knew they didn’t teach good manners at Hogwarts but I am still disappointed.” Grindelwald sighed theatrically. “I do this for a poor orphan boy and that’s the ‘thank you’ I get?”

Tom just looked at him ironically.

“Technically speaking, you basically abducted me and brought me here like some sort of creep-”

He pointed at Grindenwald with his spoon.

“-to eat ice cream with you.”

“Didn’t I warn you about dangerous strangers?” Grindelwald burst out in laugher again and waved at the nearest waiter to bring them a check.

Grindenwald seemed much happier to speak French than English, he took visible pleasure in it, making small talk. Him and the waiter exchanged knowing looks, then the man said something in Tom’s direction, smiling.

“What did he say?” He lowered his voice to whisper, even though the man was already gone.

“He said that my son doesn’t look like me at all.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at that.

“Disgusting idea.”

“Ungrateful bastard.” Grindenwald made a sour face. “You wish you looked like me. But Tom-”

His voice became serious again.

“I’ll be back for you when I deal with Albus.”

“Will you, ever?” Tom grimaced. “Deal with him? More so- I don’t think you are going to be back.”

“And why is that so? Do you bet on Albus?” Grindenwald smiled unpleasantly.

“No, not really.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “It’s just a hint. But you know, what if I don’t go with you? I think- I think that you are afraid of competition and that was the reason for this proposition in the first place.”

“You are far too clever for your own good.” He said, amused with himself, and looked at Tom enigmatically. “But you still don’t understand many things.”

This kind of talk always irritated Tom but now, it just made him understand something.

“You treat me like a child.”

“Well, aren’t you one?”

Tom recalled this conversation over and over later in his life and he never really made anything out of it, never grasped it fully, the memory of Gellert’s face, the taste of ice cream lingered for a longest time. He disappeared with a smile, just as he appeared, ruffling Tom’s hair as the goodbye as if he still were a six-year old.

They didn’t meet again before Grindelwald’s defeat but when Tom turned seventeen, Gellert send him a gift; a golden watch with a mocking inscription: _non omnis moriar?_

He listened to it ticking on the sleepless nights.

* * *

In the darkness of his cell, he often ironically thought about Percival Graves, the last memory of him coming back to him repeatedly; image of man bound, laying on the floor of his own living room, spitting blood and profanities at Grindelwald.

He thought a little bit about everything; young Credence Barebone praying to muggle God, stammering over the words, desperate; _Holy Father, Who art in Heaven, Hallowed by Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come…_ And then the man, nailed to the cross, rose from the grave back again. It made Gellert shiver as he remembered Tom’s words: _As if Jesus came down from heaven. A devil child._ He tried to talk to this foreign God, argue with him, pacing in his small cell back and forth, sometimes he laughed at Him out loud, even if there wasn’t anyone to hear it but him.

 _God, nailed to the cross. What kind of God that is, what makes them go mad for him, kill for him, hurt? Does Tom pray to him still? As Credence used to say; Holy Father- if that is so, wasn’t it the only father Tom ever has?_ He wondered, image of Tom’s ring appearing in his head.

Gellert thought and thought. He thought with longing about his wand: now in foreign hands, in danger, he thought about Ariana smiling at him, he thought about Goldstein sisters and Scamander brothers, letting bitterness take over him.

But most importantly, he thought about Albus. Gellert always thought about Albus. With hate, with longing, with lust.

Always, always.

“ _Why did you take the memory from him?” He asked Albus that day, after everything was done. “The boy hated it, you know that.”_

_Blue eyes looked at him with a mixture of weariness and annoyance. He turned to face battered and bloodied Gellert._

_“I wanted to see you once more.” He answered, softer this time._

_"You hasn’t changed at all, Albus. Still selfish.”_

_"Oh, I am. But you never minded it that much, as far as I remember.”_

_Gellert looked at the slope of his shoulders with pure hunger in his eyes, his hands itching to reach out and touch, and take. He remembered how they used to kiss, grasping on each other desperately, burning with feeling and passion._

_“The boy isn’t beyond reparable. If you think he is, you are delusional, Albus.”_

_“He killed his own father.”_

_“Oh, don’t we all kill the memory of them, in a way?”_

_Albus looked at him weirdly:_

_“I wouldn’t take you for one with knowledge about muggle psychology.”_

_Gellert giggled._

_“I don’t know it, but if it talks about killing fathers, I would gladly listen.”_

_“You wouldn’t want to hear about it, really.” Albus grimaced in distaste._

_“Riddle Senior wasn’t much of a father, wasn’t he?” He leaned back against the wall, letting his hair fall into his face so he wouldn’t have to look at those blue eyes, at those hands._

_“Tom was conceived under the influence of a love potion. There was no choice for Tom Senior and no obligation for him to take care of his son.”_

_“But Tom didn’t know this, right?” Gellert tilted his head. “You should have told him.”_

_“I don’t think it matters for him. I don’t think he can understand it because he isn’t able to feel love at all.”_

_“That’s bullshit and you know it, Albus.” Gellert looked him in the eyes again. “But fool yourself as long as you please. Amuse yourself. I will have the last word.”_

The memory faded and faded but Gellert dwelled on it further and further, until it mixed into one with images of young Albus with his red hair and soft hands.

He waited for a visitor long expected- and of course, he appeared in the hottest day of summer.

“You got old.” Tom’s voice was different, colder and older.

“You told me this once already.” Gellert turned to look at him, devouring him with his eyes. There wasn’t much that changed; his cheeks were sunken, eyes pitch black, skin pale. “And you, Tom, are the most handsome you’ve ever been.”

“I have a new name now.” Riddle straightened his back. He was even skinnier than he used to be, clothes hung loosely from his starved form. Gellert could imagine his bones moving under his skin.

“Oh, I am sure you have.” He grinned. “But to me, you will always be little Tom from the park, tugging on my sleeve.”

Tom grimaced at his condescending tone.

“That’s funny, Gellert, because not such a long time ago your old friend said something similar to me.”

“We are not so different, after all, Albus and me. Two sides-” Gellert raised his hand so Tom could see it; there was a galleon in his hand. “-of the same coin.”

Tom smiled coolly. There was unfamiliar gleam in his eyes and Gellert didn’t like it.

 _So he did it._ He eyed the boy, surprised at the depth of his own disappointment.

“What did you do to yourself, Tom?” He came closer. “What did you do, boy?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” With corner of his eye, he saw Tom squeeze the ring on his finger protectively.

“A bad decision, really.” Gellert smiled bitterly. “Where is the angry boy I used to know? The ring? The locket?”

“The diary.” He answered shortly and for a second, it seemed like he was the same sixteen-year old he saw last time.

“So sentimental, Tom.” He said mockingly. “But it won’t help you. You just damaged yourself. You will never be a match for Albus Dumbledore.”

He could see anger spike in Tom’s eyes, red and burning, but he kept his façade.

“Is it jealously I see?” He titled his head. “Look at you, Gellert, kept in a cell like an animal. And to think that I used to wish you were my father as a child.”

“Oh, I could only dream, Tom.” Grindelwald’s tone was soft. “But aren’t you sure you aren’t wishing it still? You came here at your own accord, wanting me to approve of the bad choice you made.”

Tom’s face turned into a mask, fury boiling behind it. He didn’t say anything.

“Still, isn’t a failed wizard better than a filthy muggle who abandoned you?” Grindelwald added in much lighter tone.

Tom’s nostrils flared.

“What do you want to achieve with your mockery?” He leaned against the wall in the masquerade of calmness but there was tension in his body. “Hoping I would kill you?”

“Cranky, aren’t you, Tom?” He laughed. “Tempting, but no. Oh, what a world we live in. I knew you would come to visit me. I am truly happy to see you.”

Tom’s mask slipped, face twisting in an expression somewhat akin to fear or worry- but what was it really? Gellert wouldn’t know.

The boy chewed on his words until he spat out:

“I have to go.”

Gellert watched him and when it seemed that Tom would just disappear any second, just as he appeared, he called after him:

“Tom.”

“Yes?” He turned to look on Grindelwald. When he didn’t get his answer right away, he repeated once more, angrily:

“ _Yes?”_

“I wanted to look at you for the last time.” Gellert came closer and put a hand on Tom’s cheek, his thumb resting against the cheekbone. Tom let him, surprised by the gesture.

“And why is that so?” He asked, frozen under the touch.

“Because next time we will meet, you won’t be yourself, not fully.” Grindelwald looked into his hellish black eyes. “I wouldn’t let you do that if you were my son-”

“I wish, oh, I wish, Tom.” He sighed quietly. “I would spoil you rotten.”

Tom didn’t say anything, just stared at him with shock and then- he disappeared, leaving only memory of warmth on Gellert’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would be extremely thankful for any kudos or comments!


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